The Boys
by Lost-Hogwarts-Student
Summary: During a very sad event, Mrs. Weasley remember's the good times. ONESHOT. Read and Review please!


**A/N: Hello, everyone! I just had this pop into my mind one day when I was thinking of what to write for Musical Marauders. It's a oneshot, so enjoy!**

**P.S. _Might be a teeny bit of a Deathly Hallows spoiler, but only a little detail. _**

**The Boys**

The little boy was bobbling in his playpen, poking his brother. The other one was staring at his brother's finger which kept pressing into his upper arm with interest. He then grabbed it and stuck it in his mouth. The first boy cried as he saw his finger being eaten by his identical twin. Their mother quickly ran into the living room, expecting to see something much worse. She sighed and clutched her chest. Nothing was wrong.

"What happened here?" she asked as she picked up one of them. She got a tissue from her pocket and wiped off his finger which was all wet, "There, all better now?"

The little boy nodded happily and was then put back into his playpen. The young mother chuckled and went back off to the kitchen. She shut the door, but it only stayed closed for a minute. A teenage boy then entered the room, his hands in his pockets. It was Bill, the baby twins' older brother.

"Hey, you guys want a little something?"

The two babies looked at him with curiosity. What did this big boy want? Bill held out two dungbombs and handed them to the babies.

"Ok, you can do whatever you want with these, just don't show mum, ok?" he said as he slyly crept out of the room, silently closing the door behind him.

The babies stared at each other and the little brown objects they were holding in their hands. Was this a toy? Was it food? They decided it was the second and stuck it in their mouths causing the dungbombs to explode. The boys shrieked with laughter and jumped on one another, wiping at their now brown faces. They slapped the floor of their crib with their hands and pointed at each other's faces. Then, one of them stopped and just smiled at his brother. The other one grinned back. But, this moment was interrupted by their mother scurrying into the room they were in. She screamed. What was on her boys' faces? The two bubbly toddlers just jumped in place and giggled in response. She calmed down and called over her husband.

"What is it Molly?"

"Look what these two boys have done!" she said, trying to suppress a laugh.

"They're real troublemakers aren't they?" he said, tickling one of them causing both of the twins to laugh.

"Can you clean them up? I'm working on dinner," said the mother as she headed toward the kitchen.

"Sure, just let me finish up some paperwork. I'll be done in a few minutes."

The two adults then left, leaving the toddlers to their amusement. They grinned, showing little baby teeth.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"Mummy, Freddy hurt my finger!"

The little redheaded boy was holding up his finger with his other hand. The tired middle-aged mother kneeled in front of him and picked him up. Picking him up, she carried him over to their worn couch and put him on her lap.

"What happened, George?"

"Freddy hurt my finger!"

"What did he do?" asked the mother, picking up his pointer finger which was bruised and bleeding a bit. She examined it.

"He picked up a gnome from the garden and threw it at me. It didn't hit me though because I dodged it!" the little boy looked up at his mother with a smile on his face, "but the gnome bit my finger 'cause it thought I threw it. But it wasn't me, mummy, it was Freddy!"

The little boy shook his finger in front of his mother's eyes as if to emphasize the wounds on it. The mother grabbed it and brought it down.

"I see it, I see it George. Now, why don't we ask Fred what happened?"

"Nooo! He'll just say it's my fault and it wasn't! It wasn't!"

"You little baby!" cried a voice from behind the stairs.

"Come over here Fred," said the mother, looking over her shoulders at the muddy six year old. He reluctantly stood up, not wanting to leave his hiding spot. He walked toward his mother, sticking his tongue out at his brother. Their mother glared at him and he hung his head until he reached the couch.

"Now Fred, what happened?" asked the mother as she picked up the little boy and sat him down on the couch next to her. She then stood up in front of the couch and put George next to him. She looked at her boys with her arms crossed.

"George stole my dungbombs!" cried Fred as he pointed an accusatory finger at his twin brother.

"Did not!"

"Did too! Check his pockets, mum!"

Their mother leaned toward George who was squirming, his hands deep inside his pockets. He then took out his hands and stuck them behind his back. The mother realized what he had just done and held out her hand to him.

"George?"

She kept her hand there and the little boy looked at it with his beady eyes. His brother smirked at him. George then gave up and placed the dungbombs in his mother's hand.

"Thank you. Now, I think both of you should go to time out. In your room…now. No pranks, you two!" cried the mother as the two boys glumly climbed the stairs toward their bedroom. When they reached the top they ran toward the door and entered the room. They each dove under their beds and dug through piles of old clothing, retrieving acid pops, chocolate frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans, and more dungbombs. The boys sat together on one of their beds and ate the candies with delight. They looked at each other and giggled. They loved getting away with things. So they continued sucking on their lollipops and relished this moment of utter happiness.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"Fred! George! Come here, now!" cried a very irritated Mrs. Weasley.

"What is it mum?" the boys replied from upstairs.

"I will tell you once you get down here!"

The teenage boys jogged down the stairs showing up in ragged T-Shirts and messy fiery-red hair.

"What have I told you?" she asked, her hands placed impatiently on her waist.

"Uh…no dungbombs during dinner?"

The boys gave each other high fives behind their backs and laughed.

"No! I always tell you to get the gnomes out of the garden! But no! I go out there and get attacked by these things! Go out there, now!"

"Ok."

"Sure."

The boys jogged outside and found themselves in amongst a village of gnomes. The boys looked at each other and took out their wands. Fred nodded and George snuck up on one, picking it up by its huge head.

"Ready, Fred?"

"Ready when you are."

George then threw the gnome up in the air and Fred quickly pointed his wand and shot a spell at it that made it fly almost a mile away. The boys smiled at each other and continued this process. They loved ridding the garden of gnomes. They tried different spells and had a contest to see who could shoot the gnome the farthest away from their garden. Little did they know that their mother was looking at them threw out the kitchen window. But, luckily, she had a smile on her face. She loved it when they were mischievous together. They looked so happy. The boys were soon done with their "chore" and were very pleased at the result. The garden was clear and they could hear gnomes grunting in the far distance.

"Bloody brilliant," they said to one another.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Molly Weasley wiped the tears from her face with a handkerchief as she remembered all of these times. She stared at the gravestone and at the name engraved on it. She still couldn't believe it. How could she leave him unprotected? He was her baby boy, and she had failed him. She sobbed into the little cloth as she felt a hand being placed on her shoulder. She looked at who it was and saw her other son George, a patch over his left ear. He smiled at her and she tried to return it, but the sadness was engulfing her. He put his arm all the way around her and gave her a hug. He whispered into her ear,

"It's okay, mum. Don't blame yourself for what happened. It's Voldemort's fault, not any of ours. But that evil man is gone now, don't worry."

"But I miss him, George," replied Molly as she sobbed into her son's shoulder.

"I miss him, too. But you have to think of all the good times we've experienced with him. You have to keep him alive," said George as his arms fell back to his sides. He looked at his mother with a smile. This time, she was able to return it.

"He was so young…"

That was all she could say before stepping away from the grave, hand in hand with George. She looked back one more time at the grave stone and read the writing engraved on it:

_Fred Weasley_

_Fred was laughter; and laughter never dies._

**A/N: Thanks for reading, and I hope you liked it. Please review... **


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